


Flower Crown

by CecilsUnstoppableGayness



Category: Keeper of the Lost Cities Series - Shannon Messenger
Genre: Azriel and Stellan, Child Abuse, M/M, also homophobia, barely hinted at - Freeform, help idk what I’m doing, im also soft, ish, might come into play more later idk, these are my OCs, theyre soft, this is my first kotlc original so idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:42:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24076921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CecilsUnstoppableGayness/pseuds/CecilsUnstoppableGayness
Summary: Azriel is soft. Stellan is pretty. 0% of gays can function.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	Flower Crown

Azriel was well aware of three things: he was really gay, he was really useless, and the boy playing just across from the thicket he was hiding in was extraordinarily beautiful. And yes, Az was stalking him. Useless.  
“Over here! No, here! I can see the arrow!” The boy and his friends had gotten ahold of some medieval human weaponry, or crude approximations of such, and were practicing with them. Each took turns shooting three arrows towards a fallen log, but, as their technique was horrible, they kept missing. Their leader, and the object of Azriel’s admiration, was perched in a tree, pointing out the lost weaponry.   
“Come on, Luca. It’s right here, see?” He swung down from the tree, violet tunic twisting fetchingly, and plucked the arrow from the ground. “Alright, it’s my turn.”  
He marched past the two other boys, who fell into step behind him almost reverently, and swept the bow off the ground. An arrow was placed into his elegantly held hand, which he deftly twirled around his fingers before sliding it against the bowstring. He carefully drew the arrow back, silk sliding along his shoulder muscles and dragging the cuffs of his sleeves up to reveal a delicate spattering of freckles across his forearms. Azriel could feel his face turn crimson-hot, and he sighed slightly, studying the firm, crystalline gaze, the slight scrunch around his nose and the indent where he was biting the inside of his lip. More coppery freckles danced across his face like sparks from a fire. His posture was relaxed, but his muscles carved his silk shirt into heavy curves, drawn tight from the strain. Azriel basked in his heat for the moment it lasted, and when the arrow fled into the center of their wooden target, Az felt the blow in his chest, as if he had been struck. There was something thrumming in his core, fluttering in his heart like the arrow’s fletching shivered from impact. Azriel froze. Oh fuck, bad decision, I’m in love.  
“Brilliant, Stellan!” One of the boys said, nudging his shoulder.  
Stellan.  
Stellan turned away from him, and held his arms out triumphantly, and his companions applauded. Azriel wanted to applaud too, but such a gesture was unworthy of such a show of pure beauty. Also if he got caught that would be the worst thing to ever happen, and Az would rather avoid that. He slid forwards on his hands and knees, trying to turn himself around to see Stellan’s face. A few, careful, inches and suddenly pain wrapped itself across his leg. He started, trying hard not to make noise, and lost his balance. The world whipped into a blur of elegant greens and tauntingly cheerful blue -- and then he was still, flat on his back looking up at the sky. His curl had fallen across his face, as well as a dusting of firey fringe, and his leg stung. Panic gripped, him, pulling him upwards. All four boys were watching him, mouths open, eyes wide. Azriel met Stellan’s sky-bright gaze for a breath of a second, and then whirled away before he could see any emotion there. He was positive he’d find horror, or fury, if he stayed. Eyes blurry, he took off up the hill, shaking off the waves of pain from his leg as he channeled as much strength as he could into escape. Why couldn’t you leave it alone, you stupid boy? Now look what you’ve done. You’ll never see those beautiful eyes again. If he tells Not-Father, you’ll never see anyone again. Az’s tears fell in earnest now, as he reached his cottage. He flung himself down amongst the plants and wrapped his arms around his legs, shutting his eyes, trying to forget. But no matter how hard he tried, when he cried himself to sleep curled amongst his plants and blanketed in the honey-thick afternoon sun, he dreamed of sky-fire eyes and freckles like stars.

A loud crack. Muffled thumps, and Stellan turned around sharply. Copper hair, molten ruby waves cascading across his forehead, and a single curled strand right along his nose. Eyes shimmering deep blue, with a sliver of moonlight cutting across one eye. Striking, elegant, breathtaking. He stumbled to his feet, terrified, and those eyes met his, and Stellan felt the world swoop around him. Awe, shock, yearning, horror. There was a shift in the universe, pulling him towards this new arrival. He took a step forwards, trying to speak, but the figure was already racing away, the tails of his black tunic drifting lightly around his waist.   
“Shit, no, come back, you’re so beautiful.” Stellan reached after him, taking a couple more hesitant steps. The boy was gone.   
He was drawn back to reality by Kastor and Cillian laughing hysterically.   
“Did- did I say that aloud?” He asked Luca, horrified. Luca nodded, suppressing a grin. Stellan beat down his fear, brushing his friends’ hands and finding only playful fondness, no disgust at all.  
“You gonna go after him, Prince Charming?” Cillian smirked, shoving him lightly.   
“Go! We’ll wait!” Kastor added.  
Luca said, “Did you see his expression? He looked smitten.”   
The image of those searing eyes, all their depth and kindness, and the veil of terror, dragged him up the hill after his fair friend. He had felt love there, and so much fear. He was terrified of what Stellan would think of him. Don’t worry, little beauty, I’ve fallen too!  
The mountain was steep, and the forests tangled and confusing, and although he had walked through the woods on his side thousands of times, it took him all afternoon to reach the open field, littered with dancing blue and violet flowers. Across the field he saw what looked like a human house, quaint and moss covered, filled to the brim with more different types of flowers than Stellan had ever seen. Exotic twisting vines escaped the empty windows, bursts of hue against the dark stone and gentle teal lichen. Stellan paused by the doorframe, leaning against the stone and trying to figure out who was inside. It was fuzzy, but there was the slightest nudge of anxiety around the corner. Slowly, he stepped out, not daring to cross the threshold. Sure enough, in the back corner, nestled between winding potted flowers, was a delicate rose haired boy, curled into a tight ball. His eyes were closed, eyelids and cheeks streaked with salt, breathing deep and trembling. Startled, Stellan made a soft noise, and immediately the boy froze. Shit.  
“H-hullo.” He attempted to sound jovial, but his voice sounded so fragile. The boy uncurled enough to look up with those stunning eyes, and Stellan was captivated.  
“Sorry.” He said softly. “I shouldn’t have come in here.”  
There was no response. His mystery rose had straightened up and was still just staring, rich peacock eyes searching him. He looked scared. He was probably used to people being mad at him, and was practiced at staying out of their way, and so was frightened of Stellan’s reaction. Stellan gave the most gentle smile he could manage, and stepped back so he was leaning on the doorframe but not covering the exit. *Don’t scare him off.*   
“Are you alright?” He asked, still staying quiet and kind. Very hesitantly, the boy nodded. He was standing now, which made him quite a bit taller than Stellan. His red petal hair bounced against his face.   
“Really?” Stellan questioned.  
Slowly, the boy nodded again.   
“You were crying. You were scared. But your not now.” Stellan remarked. When the boy narrowed his eyes, he added, “empath.”   
His friend nodded again. His eyes hadn’t left Stellan’s. Stellan didn’t want them to. Slowly, he moved forwards so that he was standing just across the doorframe from Stellan, staring directly into his face. Stellan smiled again, but he was sure he looked anxious. The boy was even prettier up close; the thick red wave of his hair contrasted with his delicate features and deep eyes, and the ice cold crack across one of them gave him a... dangerous aspect to him.   
“You’re not scared.” He said again. “And I’m not angry.” He felt his friend relax. “You were... watching me and my friends? Don’t worry, I love an audience.” He winked, and his friend flushed slightly and tipped his head down. “Especially”...don’t say it. Do say it. He could get you in trouble. Fuck it. “Especially by one as gorgeous as yourself.”  
He heard his friend take in a breath, steadily, and then gently let it out. The walls weren’t thick, and Stellan could feel his breath against his face. He felt flushed too.   
“It wasn’t a poor view.” The soft voice echoed against his head, making him look up directly into his face. His companion was blushing delicately and yet an impish smile graced his features. Stellan gasped lightly. “Why thank you.” He said, his voice shaking far more than he wanted it to. And then, because it seemed like a good idea, “I’m Stellan.”  
“Azriel.”   
Azriel.  
“Such a lovely name.”  
Azriel blushed deeply. Suddenly, after a second of bashful staring, he slammed the door closed. Stellan jumped back, surprised and upset. Did I scare him off? Was I too forward? Lovely Azriel, please don’t hate me!

Which flowers would look best in Stellan’s hair; the trumpet flowers or the peonies? Dark blue or magenta? Should I braid the stems or twist them. FUCK DID I JUST SLAM THE DOOR IN HIS FACE?!  
Azriel whirled around.  
“Stellan?” He called through the door.  
“Azriel.” Came the instant response. It felt like a sigh, a release of breath that Stellan had been holding.  
“I’m sorry about that,” Azriel hummed shyly. “You didn’t do anything wrong- I don’t think you can do anything wrong- anyways I have a surprise for you.”  
“I’m excited.” Stellan’s voice was so playful and so kind. Azriel had never had a friend before, and even he knew that friends didn’t breathlessly call each other beautiful upon first acquaintance. This was something new, exciting, adventurous; he couldn’t ruin it. Carefully, he plucked three vines, two deep blue and one magenta, and braided them together, carefully and anxiously nudging each flower into its place. Even once he’d finished it, he sat anxiously on the ground, holding it in his hands and blushing. Was this a good idea? Would Stellan think he was too forward? Had he misinterpreted his reaction? Azriel leaned his head back against the wall, breathing deeply.  
“Are you alright in there?” Stellan asked. His voice was teasing, but with a twinge of worry.   
Breathe deeply. You’re only giving the really cute boy who you stalked for hours a flower crown and telling him you think he’s handsome. It’s not a big deal. Happens every day.  
“I-I’m fine. You can open the door, now.”  
There is a quiet creak, and the scuff of approaching footsteps. Azriel was already blushing, but he stood, hiding his gift behind his back.  
“Azriel?”  
“Stellan.... I- I think you’re really beautiful.” The words tumbled out like a landslide, crumbling at their feet. Stellan’s face colored slightly. Unable to watch him, Azriel looked fixedly at the floor, sticking his arm out sharply, awkwardly presenting the flower crown, almost hitting Stellan in the face. Stellan dipped back playfully, and then gently lifted the crown from his hand. Azriel kept his eyes fixed on their feet until Stellan spoke.  
“Thank you.” His voice was reverent, fond, as he admired the flowers. Azriel looked up through his lashes as Stellan set the crown onto his curls at an angle, nestling it down so one of the biggest blossoms was precisely at the center of his forehead. He was beaming.   
“Do I look dazzling?” He asked.  
“You are dazzling, yes.” Azriel answered, some dizzying confidence seeping through him.  
“Hm.” Stellan darted forward and brushed his fingers across Azriel’s hand. “You weren’t lying. You mean that.”  
“Of course I do.” Azriel smiled softly. “Did you mean it?”  
Stellan watched Azriel, his eyes soft. “Not at all.”  
Deep blue eyes, just barely twilight with a streak of moonlight, stared straight into their opposite; pure, clear, sky with pure white sunlight glazing them. Stellan’s lips, curved delicately, were smiling. He stepped closer, and very delicately wound Azriel’s curl around his finger, twisting it out of his face. Azriel froze, shocked by the gesture. Stellan’s smile became sad.  
“You don’t get affection much, do you?”  
“N-no.” He laughed bitterly. “I don’t even have friends, except for one of our gnomes.”  
“And your family?”  
“They’re not affectionate. Or kind.”  
Stellan’s eyes dimmed sadly. “How could they be so cruel to one so beautiful?”  
Azriel shrugged, pretending he wasn’t sent reeling by Stellan’s kindness.  
Stellan held out a hand. “Well I suppose we’ll just have to be friends, won’t we.”  
“I suppose.” Azriel smiled, and carefully set his hand into Stellan’s. Their fingers wrapped together. The touch was warm. Azriel leaned into it a little.  
“Let’s introduce you to my friends,” Stellan said. Azriel nodded.


End file.
